Eyes of Compassion
by Isrufel Valis
Summary: One shot. The tale of the leper through his eyes. I wrote this for a scholarship, and I like it, so I decided to post it.


I raised my head, listening to the steady drip down the cave walls. As I opened my eyes—thank G… thank I know not whom anymore—that I could still do that, my gaze, well adjusted to darkness, took in the human remains, the living corpses with whom I shared my fate. I ran what fingers I had over my body, checking. How much more had I lost while I succumbed to the blissful refuge of sleep? Sleep, where I was whole, where I could escape this nightmare. A few others were awake, and I saw in their empty eyes the same pain that I assuredly held in mine, knowing that no one cared, not even among our own kind. We were marked for death, why add the emotional pain of having to watch a friend die? Better that they be complete strangers.

Another sound invaded the cave, obscuring the dripping. It reminded me of the hustle within a city market, but that was impossible. People avoided this place as if their lives depended on it (which, in a sense, they did). People… I had not been among their kind for so long. For now I lived with the dead, avoiding the scrutinizing eyes of humanity. I had become too dangerous. In truth I could not bear to walk the streets, scorched by the condemning stares, my voice hoarse and my mouth fouled by the taste of that word. Unclean. The word occupying all whispers surrounding me, accompanied by my mandatory shouts. Announce your fault, your failure, for all the world to see, that they may avoid you.

I rose, a feat soon to become near impossible, and left the cave. I squinted in the afternoon light, unable to adjust to the brightness. I had avoided sunlight for some time so I did not have to witness the slow degeneration of my limbs. Shading my eyes, I crept to the edge of the cliff, the noise increasing with each unstable step. When I peered over a hush fell over the crowd and I leapt back, heart pounding. They had seen me!

While I lay there a resonant voice drifted up. It was the most calming, understanding voice I had ever heard, penetrating my soul. I peered back over the edge, unnoticed, as he began to teach.

"Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven."

He continued to teach, but it was unlike any rabbi or Pharisee I dimly remembered. Who was this man? As this thought ran through my mind I saw his gaze shift toward the cliff. He knew. He had known the whole time of my presence, but had not thought to drive me away. He had let me stay and listen. Even as I began to back away his gaze caught mine and held it, holding me captive. Drowning in the compassion that flowed from those penetrating eyes, I saw the flicker of inhuman wisdom, of complete understanding and love.

No, he was not even a man. I knew what people were, and they did not gaze on one such as me with love, but rather revulsion. I could not even have the consolation of being considered invisible. To be avoided one must be seen. Seen. This being did not just see, but gazed into the depths of the human soul, accepting what you were, yet saddened that you must remain that way, that you vainly sought the joy in life he could so easily provide if you merely accepted.

I basked in the love flowing through his voice as he continued teaching, and I drew my knees to my chest, unaware of my condition for the first time. I was soothed into a quiet reverie, and barely noticed as he quietly began to remove himself from the crowd and retreat back down the mountain.

No. He couldn't leave. Not when he had just brought such happiness into my dreary realm of existence. I had finally been accepted as I was. Uncaring of the crowd, I ran to find the unused path leading down from the cliff. The crowd parted before me, and for once I was glad of my affliction. Long before I reached him, he was aware of me and turned, patiently waiting. As soon as I was near I fell to my knees, prostrate, suddenly guilty for afflicting him with my presence. At least I was far enough away that he was safe from this wretched disease. Yet still, even now, his eyes were filled with compassion. If this supernatural being could love me, grant me peace in my soul, had that innate knowledge of my presence, he assuredly had the power to heal.

_I know what you are. You are not fully human. I can feel the power of the God I thought had abandoned me long ago in you._ He smiled softly at my unspoken pronouncement. It was not just compassion; he knew exactly what I had thought. A voice entered my head, not foreign, but comforting, as if it had always been there. _You were never abandoned my son. It was you who turned away. Will you return?_

The gathering crowd vanished from my perception. It was only he and me.

"If you are willing, you can make me clean." _Please_, I begged him silently. _I believe. I know you can._

He stepped even closer to me. What was he doing? If he got any closer the others would have to avoid _him _as well. He reached down toward me and my mind split, half of me begging him to stop to avoid contamination, the other joyous with anticipation. His hand settled on my shoulder, bringing tears to my eyes. I had been without physical contact for so long… I had forgotten. This great being need do no more. I was complete.

A smile spread across my face even before he replied. "I am willing. Be clean!"

I felt the transformation; felt the power flow from his hand sending a racing fire that did not burn through my body, across my skin. Such warmth! Compassion made substantial. Then—gone. Only a gentle tingling remained.

This miracle of a being then knelt beside me; came down to my level, embracing me fully. I was overwhelmed. He let go slightly, whispering softly. "Tell no one of this. Go instead to the priest so that you may be cleansed in man's eyes as well. Go offer the sacrifices ordained by Moses as a testimony to all that you are clean." With these parting words he rose and left, followed by twelve companions.

The crowd had also left, following the great teacher. I turned toward the city. What joy to be able to enter the gates, to mingle without the scorn and fear! I made my way toward the temple, ecstatic. The man had not only cured me, he had brought me back to life and restored my humanity.

As I walked the street a man recognized me. "Get out filth! Rid us of your presence!"

"No, I have been cured!"

"Impossible."

I tried to explain. _He_ had asked me to keep silent, but I was unable to. My elation overcame, and the story burst forth, impossible to contain as the sea itself. A crowd gathered, and I recounted the miracle I had, unlike others, not just witnessed, but experienced.

An infinite horizon stretched before me, replacing the narrow path that contained only death. I was reborn, and I relished the sparkling sunlight and the beauty of the world as I never had before. My days no longer seemed numbered; the inevitable countdown banished, to return another day. Savoring being whole once more, I fell back into the rush of life, but rather than be caught up in it, I saw only those unfathomable eyes, filled with compassion. The eyes of God himself.


End file.
